Sweet Revenge
by Supermoi
Summary: -Set in Armada- Wheeljack stalked Hot Shot to get revenge on him. But what he intends to take out of him will left Hot Shot broken more then he could imagine… Slash, Dark, Violence, Rape, MPreg and torture.


**Summary:**Revenge is the sweetest nectar in the Universe… And Wheeljack has ever intention to taste it. Hot Shot should watch his back carefully… Slash, Dark, Violence, Rape and torture. Set in Armada.

**Disclaimer: **I own nothing, of course…

**Rating: **Mature/NC-17

_Sweet Revenge_

Wheeljack had captured Sideswipe and taken him away from him, into the burning old chemical factory. The young warrior still couldn't believe that his old friend had become a Decepticon… When Wheeljack told him this, Hot Shot had felt his spark shatter, and his old wounds, that he thought had been closed a long time ago, opened all the way back, painfully so.

Wheeljack was a Decepticon now; he'd proven it by shooting him and then now by capturing the youngling, Sideswipe, to bait him to follow inside the burning building. Hot Shot felt pain race through his chest, anger, hurt and the pain of a broken spark…

Wheeljack had been his lover. Back on Cybertron when they were training, they'd grew close to each others, and they had become lovers quickly… They were so good together, in everything they did. They always seemed to be completing each others. Before the fateful battle that led to the explosion, and the fire, that trapped Wheeljack, they'd been talking of bonding.

But it had ended abruptly when Hot Shot thought Wheeljack dead. He had wanted to return, but he had been forced to stay put, even knocked offline by his superior officer so he wouldn't rush back into the fire alone and risk his own life. When he woke back up in the Autobot Medbay, the weight if his guilt, and his pain, almost made him loose it. He threw himself into battle then, and training, and tried to forget about Wheeljack, but he couldn't… he had never been able to forget about him…

And now he was back… And he wanted revenge on hot Shot for what he thought had been a betrayal.

Limping, his resolve strengthen by the threat posed to his new charge Sideswipe, Hot Shot made his way through the burning building, hearing faintly the young Autobot calling for help some distance away, deeper in the heart of the flames.

"I'm coming Sideswipe! Just hold on!" he shouted, not sure if he would be heard through the roar of the fire.

But it wasn't Sideswipe who answered him… he felt someone behind him just a second before he was roughly grabbed, and a pair of strong arms dragged him to a deserted and not yet burning building up ahead.

"Wheeljack!" Hot Shot cried, wriggling a little, and he fist connected with his midsection, efficiently shutting him up. "P-please… Stop this…" he wheezed as he tried to regain his bearings.

"I can't do that Hot Shot. You need to learn what it means to betray a friend, a lover… and a Decepticon!" Wheeljack's cold voice replied and he looked up to see him looming over him, a cold look in his optics and twisted grin on his lips.

Faster then he could process, Hot Shot found himself pinned down by Wheeljack, the larger mech holding him down firmly, and grabbing a hold of his wrists. Pining them over his head. They were now so close that Hot shot could feel the heat radiating from his former lover's frame as their chest touched. His face was inches from his own and his smirk was disturbing, almost lustful. For the first time since this all started, hot Shot really felt scared.

"Wheeljack! What are you doing?" He cried again and tried to wriggle free, trashing and kicking, but with a injured leg, it wasn't doing much good.

"What does it looks like, hot Shot? I'm taking my revenge out of you…" The black colored mech replied and his laugh was full of hatred, pent-up anger and lust.

And Hot Shot understood what he wanted almost at the same time as his chestplates were ripped open and his spark carelessly exposed. He screamed and trashed wildly, his quickly pulsing spark sending blue light all around the dark room they were in. A sharp claw traced the edges of his spark casing, and he moaned, feeling a rush of pleasure shot through him. He bit his lower lip, his cheeks burning with humiliation and unwilling arousal. And then, twisting with a strength he had gathered from every tense muscle cables in his body, Hot Shot freed a hand and threw a solid, hard punch to wheeljack's faceplates, hearing the crack of something breaking with a lot of satisfaction.

Thrown off balance, the slightly larger mech fell off him and held his broken noseplate in a hand while Hot Shot, chestplates still opened and shaking slightly, stood and took a few hasty steps back.

"No! Wheeljack, don't do this…" he said, his tune tense and filled with disbelief, pain and determination.

His only answer was a low growl and Wheeljack threw himself at his prey again, using his legs to try and send him on his back again. Hot Shot jumped back and then threw another punch, using one hand to protect his exposed spark, ferociously adamant that he wouldn't let the mech touch his spark, ever. But Wheeljack was driven by rage, anger and his strength and speed seemed to be a lot higher then they used to. The next attack had Hot Shot fly back and hit the wall head first, knocking him out for a few seconds. It was enough for Wheeljack to use some old but strong chains hanging from the wall to immobilize him. Then he slapped him, hard, making him wake up and blink. He chuckled darkly, wiping the energon blood from his face.

"What's the matter, Hot Shot? I thought you like it rough… You were always begging me to go harder, and deeper… And now you don't like it anymore? Shame..." Wheeljack cruelly mocked him, and his words burned through the young mech's already scared spark like acid.

Wheeljack dug his claw inside Hot Shot's spark this time, and he was pleased with the scream of pain he got in return. The smaller mech growled and trashed wildly to try to avoid the invading claw, and one of his leg hit Wheeljack in the side, sending him sprawling again.

"I don't know what came over you, and why you changed so much, Wheeljack, but I cant let you do that! Look at yourself! This isn't what the Wheeljack I knew would've done, ever!" He tried to reason him, pulling on the chains and feeling them tightens more around his wrists. Wheeljack straddled him again, this time pinning his legs down so he couldn't move much, and his face was twisted in an expression of anger and hatred so cold that it froze Hot Shot to the core.

He stroke his panel at the same time, and with one hard, decisive tug, tore it of from between his legs, tossing it aside, and exposing the delicate, sensitive circuitry below. His interface cable and port were exposed which made Hot Shot wince, and bit his glossa hard. Wheeljack just smirked cruelly and dug a digit inside the still dry port, earning himself a cry of pain, Hot Shot tensing and trying to buck him off despite his immobile position. And his cable, despite hiself, started to harden… All the better for him, Wheeljack thought, and his other hand took a hold of the already half-erect member, stroking hard and fast… he was going to take everything that he could from this little backstabbing whore… And left nothing but a shell. This was only the beginning, ho yes.

"W-wheel-jack…" Hot Shot's pained, stuttering voice cut through his musing and he looked back up at the scrunched up, tense and flushed faceplates of his former lover and supposed friend. "P-please… Don't…" He begged and his blue optics locked with Wheeljack's for a moment, full of fear, pain, and arousal. This couldn't be happening… He was NOT going to get raped, no, no, no… Not by this mech of all mechs! "I loved you… We can work something out! You don't have to do this…"

Wheeljack chuckled darkly, without answering with words, and scratched his sharp claw over the pulsing spark again, leaving a deep dark blue scar on the surface of the pulsing orb. At the same time he jerked at hot Shot's cable and felt it start to fully erect under his touch. The cries that the smaller mech was now making were like music to his audio and he drank it up like a sponge. He recorded everything, intending to re-watch it later again and again, and remember that he had owned the mech, and fully broken him. Revenge was indeed sweet… The pain in his side and nose were nothing compared to the pleasure and satisfaction of his victory over Hot Shot. He wanted to torment him further but he had do be quick… The fire wouldn't let this building alone for much longer… A shame, he wanted to drw it out for as long as possible, hours or even days if he could.

Ho well… He'll have to be more… creative to get a lasting revenge. Something that the young bot will be reminded of for the rest of his function… That would remind HIM for the rest of his function. He came with one twisted, nasty idea then, and his dark, twisted smirk grew, making Hot Shot all the more uncomfortable, and dreading what was to come next.

He then opened his chestplates and let his pulsing blue spark show, and opened his panel at the same time, freeing his hard cable and in one swift, hard and merciless movement, he slammed his chest into Hot Shot's, and buried his cable into his wet, ready port. He let out a moan and arched his back, the familiar feeling bringing back some old memories. Snarling, he pushed those thoughts away, and started taking his pleasure out of his former lover's aft and spark. Hot Shot's scream of pain and pleasure when he did this were the most beautiful thing he ever had the pleasure to hear. He drank them like a dehydrated human and tasted the sweetness of those sounds like they were nectar on his glossa. He was going to break him fully… he would spark him up with sparkling with this act as well, but that was the whole point… Something that would remind Hot Shot of what happened, of him, every day of his life until the day he would offline. And then he may come back to take it and raise it as a Decepticon, just to spite him further.

Hot Shot was lost in a world of pain and pleasure, not really processing anything else then the invasion of his spark and his port, which were both painful and so, so pleasurable. The familiar feeling was… twisted, warped in a way that made him sick and feeling used, dirtied by the act. He cried and sobbed and moaned and writhed under Wheeljack's harsh, merciless assault for what felt like an eternity, and he would've happily offlined if it would spare him the agony… This was a parody of what they used to be and it was painful in more ways then the mere physical abuse. It was a rape of his memories and his spark deeper then he could imagine… And it was shaking him to the very core, breaking something inside him like glass. All he could do now, really, was lay there and hope it was going to be over as soon as possible…

Wheeljack's spark felt different yet identical to what he remembered. He felt like he belonged, and like he was a complete stranger. He didn't lie when he said that he had changed, that he had been reborn. He could barely recognize his old friend, and lover, in this monster that had replaced him. He was cold, ruthless and uncaring… but he was also lonely, sad and deeply hurt. He felt it all through his spark, and he tried, just tried to make him see the truth about what happened in that fire, so long ago, but Wheeljack was blocking him, like a steel door had closed between their two sparks and wouldn't budge an inch. He didn't want to see it, was doing everything not to acknowledge what Hot Shot had to show him… And it hurt more then the rape itself. He didn't want to see what really happened, like he didn't even care anymore…

And it was probably the case… He had written hot Shot off for good, and wasn't going back to him, never. Realising this, Hot Shot made a deep, spark felt cry of anguish and sobbed harder, until he felt the built-up of an overload start to wash over him. The pounding in his port increased in speed and strength as well, a clear sign of a coming overload and he braced himself somehow. He arched off the ground and his spark flared wildly when the other overloaded inside him, triggering his own overload a moment later.

"HAAAAAA!" Hot Shot screamed as his spark flared even wilder and felt like there was a tiny pull from it at some point… He barely felt this, too overwhelmed by his and Wheeljack's overloads to care.

When he pulled out, Whelljack took a moment to just look at the mech curling up in a ball under him, covered in his fluids and in filth. Hot Shot was sobbing and shivering, hugging himself like a scared sparkling. He smirked, enjoying the sight, even if the slightest hint of regret tainted his circuits. He ignored it easily, and said coldly, covering himself back up, and detailing his downed prey with a cold, hateful gaze. Finally he said, his tune as dry and cold as if nothing had just happened.

"You should get off your aft and run to save your little friend, Hot Shot. You don't have much more time."

Hot Shot was brought out of his shock by the voice of his former friend, and he looked at him, tears streaming down his cheeks. He looked miserable and pained both physically and mentally. He asked his voice soft and sounding broken, defeated.

"Why, Wheeljack…?"

"Because I wanted to make sure you would never forget me, Hot Shot. What you did to me in the past left me in the same state that you are in now. I felt betrayed and used." He replied and then added, his smirk returning and his tune hardening, mocking. "But I left you a little something to remember me, Hot Shot. You won't even be able to forget, not anymore…"

With those words he vanished and Hot Shot found himself all alone in the darkened room. At that moment, the fire reached the building he was in and the far wall started to be set ablaze. He remembered Sideswipe… and painfully got to his pedes. He couldn't left the youngling to die here alone! Des pite his pain and his anger, his aching spark, he had to go and get him out!

He would deal with the rest later…

oOo

_the next day__, Autobot base_

Hot Shot was lying on a medical berth, hooked to several machine because his spark had been failing not long after they returned from the old chemical factory. He had been battered and dented, and some parts of his armour had been missing, but he was in a good shape, nonetheless.

That is, until he fell unconscious in the rec room.

Sideswipe, whom had been with him then and talking nonstop as usual, had freaked out and called red Alert right away. The Autobot medic had been quick to hook the young mech to a spark monitor and a spark-energy regenerator to replenish his lost energy. And he had examined him fully… Only to discover something very shocking.

Hot Shot was carrying a newspark, not even a day old, into his own spark chamber.

That was why he lost consciousness. The little sparklet and been draining his energy and he needed more fuel to stay functioning now. When he woke up, red Alert was looking at him sternly and Optimus was there too. This alone meant that he was either in big trouble, or something was very wrong with him. Either way, it wasn't good at all. Hot Shot had asked, trying to sound cheerful and not worried.

"What's the matter? I'm not dying, am I?"

Optimus and the medic shared a look, and Red Alert took a step closer to the berth and put a hand on Hot Shot shoulder, saying.

"Hot Shot, the reason why you lost consciousness is that you are carrying a new spark in your spark chamber." He saw the young mech's optics widened in shock and then cloud over in what may be despair, or deep hurt. Maybe both… this disturbed the kind medic and he added, softly, starting to piece the pieces of that puzzle together. "And there is more… this newspark isn't even a day old. Have you interfaced with anyone on base in the last two days or so?"

Hot Shot slowly shook his head, unable to form an answer right now, and he felt tears start to form at the corners of his optics. "No… I didn't…" he whispered and then curled up on his side, starting to sob, deep, spark-wrenching sounds that seemed to come from the depth of his tortured spark.

Optimus, whom was what was closest to a father figure to hotshot, came closer and sat on the edge of the berth, putting a gentle hand on the young mech's back and rubbing soothing circles. "Let it out, Hot Shot." He said in a soft cooing tune, and then young mech all but threw himself in his Commander's arms, burying his faceplates in his neck and sobbing for all he knew.

It lasted for almost an hours,, Hot shot sobbing his spark out and Optimus hugging him and rocking him like a sparkling. Red Alert had left them alone some times ago, feeling like he was a voyeur, and returned to his office. They would call if they needed him… Finally, the sobs started to soften and melt into hiccups until Hot Shot just laid silent in Optimus's embrace. When he was calmed, Optimus finally asked, his tune knowing and understanding. When Hot Shot and Sideswipe returned the previous day, there had been something off with the scout, and now, seeing this, Optimus was able to understand what must have happened between the young mech and his former friend.

And it saddened him, because he believed that, if given the chance, everyone could be redeemed. Even megatron… if he could ever get through to his brother and make him see the wrongness of his way. But this was wishful thinking, and he was aware of it. Optimus may be a bit softspark, he wasn't naïve. And Hot Shot will have to find a way by himself to deal with this, and with Wheeljack, in the future. But of course, Optimus and the others will always be there for him. He finally asked, already knowing the answer.

"It was Wheeljack, wasn't it?"

Hot Shot merely nodded and looked into Optimus's optics, looking for any sign of disapproval, or disgust, but all he could find there was kindness and real care, and a great deal of sadness, and he felt his spark almost break at the sight. He felt so bad… And Optimus was all understanding, and caring, like he always was. He should've known though… Optimus was always there for his men, always listening, and trying to comfort, or help, with their problems. Maybe he should've talked to him after he returned, but he had put this conversation off until he felt ready. But apparently, fate had another idea, and he was /made/ ready sooner then he imagined. Optimus was smiling down at him, warmly, he could tell by the way his dermaplates were wrinkling around his optics, and he laid him back in the berth gently and said softly.

"Rest now, Hot shot. I'll come back later."

He was about to leave when Hot Shot grabbed his wrist, something coming to his mind then and he said firmly, his optics focussed and intense. "I'm keeping it, the sparkling. It's not its fault what happened… I won't condemn it for its father's crime."

He couldn't think of anything else to do… There hadn,t been any sparkling in millenias, with the war raging, and he couldn't even start to imagine terminating it. That would be a crime even more serious then what Wheeljack did to him. How it was created didn't mattered, and he placed a protective hand over it on his chest.

Optimus smiled and his optics shone softly at those words, and the sight that he was now putting up, because he knew Hot Shot was going to make the right decision. "I'm glad to hear it Hot Shot. Rest now, you need to replenish your energy."

Now, some hours later, Hot Shot had woken back up and he could feel that something had changed within him already. The sparkling… It was growing near his spark and he felt like it was a warm, comforting presence, barely there but strong. He pressed a hand over his spark and smiled.

He may have lost Wheeljack forever but he wasn,t going to loose this last piece of him that he had been granted.

oOo

_3__ months later…_

Hot Shot was laying on a medbay tabke, his chestplates opened and showing the tiny protoform that was just ready to come out. The little sparkling, tiny enough to fit in a mech's hand, was curled up right under Hot Shot bright blue spark, in the little swollen cavity that grew in the bottom of his spark chamber during the last 3 months of gestation. It was still attached to the spark with a thin, pulsing blue energy line, and some energon lines tiny like hairs, were connecting it to the spark chamber and Hot Shot's main energon line below. It was wrapped in a tight, pulsing blue cocoon, transluscent and smooth, looking so fragile… The surface of the pod was breached and fluids had leake from the crack, filling the cavity where the sparkling laid.

Red Alert, holding a tiny scalpel, was widening the tiny opening until the sparkling was clearly visible and he reached inside the pod to gently, carefully take the tiny being out. It wriggled and wailed in red Alert's hand as the medic quickly and efficiently cleaned it up and wrapped it up in a thermal blanket, offering the little mech back to his creator when he was done. He cleaned the inside of Hot Shot's spark chamber efficiently and when it was done, he closed it back and smiled at his tired and smiling patient.

"Congratulation, Hot Shot, it was a perfect birth. By the book case, if I may say." He chuckled and cleaned his hands on a rag, his red visor bright with pride after successfully helping a sparkling out of its creator's gestation's pod. "And he's healthy in every way. All he needs now is for you to give him his first feed."

Hot Shot nodded, his optics focussed solely on the tiny mechling wriggling into the thermal blanket he was holding in one hand, pressed against his chest over his spark chamber. The mechling's blue optics were drooping but he was nibbled at Hot Shot's fingers like he was hungry. He was so adorable… he was mostly red and black with yellow highlights, and he had blue optics. His helm looked more like his father though, and his features reminded him of Wheeljack. Hot Shot chuckled and unsheated a feeding line from his right wrist, offering it to his little son who took it greedily and started suckling on it.

"What are you going to call him?" Red Alert asked, watching them warmly with a kind smile.

"His name is Ironfist." He said softly and rubbed his sparkling's tiny head. He looked so fragile and delicate…

Optimus walked in then and Hot Shot turned in the berth to look at him, the little sparkling in his arms blissfully unaware of the Commander's entrance, too busy feeding. When the Autobot Commander was close,he peered inside hot Shot's hands and saw the tiny faceplates of his son, smiling and his optics warming with joy at the sight of this new life. He placed a hand on Hot Shot's shoulder and squeezed, letting his golden optics lock with Hot Shot's blue one, and something passed through them. Since the incident with Wheeljack and their unexpected aftermath, Hot Shot and Optimus had become very close, the Commander feeling protective of the young mech, and Hot Shot loving the attention. At first it had been awkward, none of them ready to acknowledge what was growing between them, and they often danced around each others, but eventually then had to admit it to themselves, and then each others. They were more then friends…

After maybe one and a half month, they'd become lovers, and Optimus was ready to act as a father for the little sparkling that was now born into the world. He had started to talk about this to Hot Shot, and the young mech seemed glad for the help everyone, and not only Optimus, was ready to give him once Ironfist was born. Optimus reached a hand and stroke the tiny head with a single finger. Ironfist let out a garbling coo through his feeding at this which made Optimus chuckle and pat his head gently again.

"he's adorable… What's his name?" He asked, already loving the little mech.

"It's Ironfist. He looks a lot like Wheeljack though… But I love him anyway." Hot Shot replied and hugged his sparkling closer to his chest, very careful of his tiny frame, while Optimus sat next to him on the berth.

"Hello there, little Ironfist! Welcome to the Autobots." Optimus said softly and rubbed the sparkling's cheek gently. He looked at hot Shot and added, tilting his head. "Don't worry; he also looks a lot like you, Hot Shot. He's beautiful."

Hot Shot chuckled, knowing that Optimus was right and he laid back in the berth, feeling tired now. He was slipping into recharge, Ironfist still feeding on his line, and curling closer to his chestplates while he too was starting to doze off. They were both tired by the birth and needed the rest… Hot Shot's last thought was that, in the ends, things had turned pretty well, for everyone.

That was without taking Wheeljack into consideration. The mech hadn't forgotten about the sparkling he helped creating. And he could come back anytime to claim what was his…

**-END?...-**

**End Note: **That bunny jumped me today while I was watching those two episodes of TF Armada where Wheeljack, an old friend of Hot Shot that he thought dead, come back to take revenge… The bunny bit me so hard I had to write this down! Now… Should I continue or not?...


End file.
